The roar of applause filled the theater, bouncing off velvet walls and crystal lights.
Zatanna bowed with her signature flourish, her cape sweeping out as the elephants she had made float high above shimmered, then vanished in a sparkle of light.
The audience erupted with cheers, a mixture of children giggling and adults clapping like kids themselves. Magic was everywhere in the world now, but they still loved the showmanship.
As the curtains fell, she gave the crowd one last smile, then disappeared in a puff of smoke, reappearing behind the stage before slipping out the side door.
Her trailer was parked a short walk away, modest compared to her reputation, but private. She pulled off her hat, tossing it on the couch, and began to remove her gloves.
That's when she noticed the folded paper waiting on her dressing table. It was placed too neatly, deliberate, like a signature. She unfolded it slowly. The paper was blank—except for the stark black shape of a bat stamped across its surface.
Her lips curved into a tired but amused smile. "Hello, Bruce," she said into the still air, not looking up yet. "What trouble did you bring this time?"
The shadows in the corner shifted, and then he stepped out. Cloaked in darkness even in the cramped light of her trailer, Batman's presence filled the room.
"Hello, Zatanna," he said, voice calm but edged with that usual grit. His gaze flicked briefly at her discarded hat. "I hope those elephants survived. You don't want PETA on your tail."
Zatanna chuckled softly, tossing her gloves onto the table. "If the elephants were real in the first place. Don't worry, I know how to keep my acts clean."
She turned, tilting her head at him. "So, what do you need, Bruce? I just finished a show, and I'm tired. Unless you are asking me out on a dinner?"
Batman didn't waste time. He pulled off one glove, extending his hand. Three red, glowing symbols burned across the back.
Zatanna's eyes widened, the tiredness vanishing in an instant. She stepped closer, reaching for his hand without hesitation, tracing the edges of the marks with her fingertips. The glow pulsed faintly beneath her touch.
"Oh, my…" she breathed, eyes narrowing as she studied them. Then her lips curled into a smirk. "Who would have thought you would be chosen as a Master? Let me guess—are you going to wish for twenty-four-hour nights so you can play Batman around the clock?"
Bruce didn't react. "I already gathered the basics about the Holy Grail War. What I want to know is more about the Servants that can be summoned."
Zatanna pulled back, raising her brow. "Straight to the point as always." With a flick of her wrist and a murmured word, a thick, leather-bound book floated off her shelf and into her hands. She sat down, resting it across her lap, and began to flip through its brittle pages.
Batman's sharp eyes immediately caught the gilded title and the name of the author. Magic 101 for dummies, by Edward Elric. He recognized it. His eyes narrowed, of course she would have a copy of that.
Zatanna smirked when she noticed his reaction. "Impressed? You should be. These don't exactly sit on bookstore shelves."
She found the section she wanted and tapped it. "Here. Summoning a Servant usually pulls a heroic spirit most compatible with the Master—someone whose personality, nature, or legend reflects yours. But the system didn't stay simple for long."
Batman folded his arms. "Someone made improvements."
"Exactly." She nodded. "Sir Edward modified it so that a Master can use a magical relic or artifact tied to a specific hero.
That way, instead of leaving it up to the Grail, you can guide the summoning. Say, if you had a shard of Durandal, you could summon Roland. A cloth from Camelot could summon King Arthur. Artifacts act as anchors."
Bruce's expression didn't change, though his mind was already turning through the inventory of relics he kept locked away in his vaults.
"What about the war itself?" he asked finally. His tone carried no hesitation, only calculation. "Is it necessary to kill other participants?"
Zatanna's gaze flicked up at him, her smile fading. "No. Only the Servants need to die. Killing the Master is just the faster way to end a contract."
Bruce's eyes narrowed slightly, suspicion in his stare. "You know I don't kill, Zatanna."
She shrugged lightly, leaning back against her chair. "That won't stop the others from trying. These wars aren't polite duels, Bruce. They're brutal. Everyone fights for their wish, and not all of them play fair. You're clever, but don't think clever alone keeps you alive in this game."
His expression didn't shift, but she saw the resolve in his eyes. It was the same as always, unyielding.
"So," she said after a moment, setting the book aside. "Do you want me to help you get a relic? I assume that's why you came here."
Batman shook his head. "I don't need one. I already have more than enough artifacts in my collection. I'll choose from them myself. That's not why I came."
Zatanna tilted her head, watching him with mild curiosity. "Then why are you here, Bruce?"
He slid his glove back on, the seals disappearing under the black fabric. "To confirm. To understand what I'm dealing with." He turned slightly toward the door. "Thanks for the information."
Her lips curved into a teasing smile. "The brooding, cold Batman, actually thanking people. What has the world come to?"
But when she looked up, he was gone. silent as ever, vanished without a sound.
Zatanna sighed and shook her head. "Ugh. Typical Bruce."
She turned the book over in her hands, her smirk fading. Something gnawed at her mind.
If Bruce wasn't here looking for an artifact… then he must have felt the energy spike earlier, the same way she had. Which meant he thought she might be one of the chosen Masters.
"But if it's not me," she muttered softly, eyes narrowing, "then who could it be?"
A face flickered in her mind—sloppy blonde hair, smug grin, trench coat that smelled like stale smoke. She frowned, shaking her head quickly.
"No… that guy probably doesn't have anything to do with this."
She hoped she was right.
*****
Istanbul
The night air was heavy with smoke and dust. Alarms blared in the distance, echoing down the narrow stone alleys of Istanbul's old quarter. Boots pounded against the ground as black-clad mercenaries chased a single figure darting through the labyrinth of streets.
"Stop, Subject-032! Surrender and return to Cadmus! Otherwise, we will use lethal force!" one of them shouted through a comm, his rifle raised.
The boy ahead of them didn't stop. His raven-black hair stuck to his forehead, his breath ragged. His eyes burned with a mix of anger and desperation. He skidded around a corner, his hands pressing against the pavement.
The stone cracked beneath his grip, and with a snarl, he wrenched a massive chunk of the road free. With unnatural strength, he hurled it like a meteor.
The mercenaries screamed as the rubble came crashing down, burying two of them under stone. Gunfire rattled through the alley before the survivors were crushed, and bullets tore into the boy's shoulder and arm. He staggered, his teeth clenched against the pain, but he didn't fall.
"My name is Connor!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fury. "I am a human! I don't want to be your experiment! Why can't you guys just leave me be!"
He bolted again, clutching his bleeding arm. Each step left a trail of crimson against the cobblestones.
After several turns through the alleys, he stumbled into an abandoned wooden house, its door half-rotted from age. He slammed it shut behind him and collapsed on the floor, his vision swimming.
His trembling fingers dug into his shoulder, pulling free a small shard of green. The kryptonite fragment hissed as it left his flesh, burning his skin with its glow. Connor dropped it with a choked gasp and stared at his shaking hands.
He knew the truth. He wasn't born like other people. He was a clone, pieced together in Cadmus labs from the DNA of Superman and Lex Luthor. He wasn't supposed to exist. He wasn't supposed to feel.
But Sarah, one of the researchers, had treated him differently. She had taught him how to read, how to smile, how to act like a person instead of a weapon.
And she had died so he could escape.
Tears welled up as his chest tightened. His voice came out broken. "Why do I even exist? Why won't those heroes, the ones who save everyone—why won't they save me? Why is this world so devoid of kindness?"
His fist struck the floorboards, cracking them. He closed his eyes and whispered through his tears, "Sorry, Sarah… no, Mom. Thank you for giving me a chance to see the world. I only wish I could be free. That I could be… happy."
Unseen at first, a faint red glow spread across the wooden floor behind him. Lines carved themselves into a complex pattern, pulsing with unnatural light. A summoning circle. The glow brightened, humming with energy.
Connor squinted through his blurred vision.
"Uh… what's going on?" he muttered, confusion overtaking his grief. The light spread further, wrapping the room in a crimson aura.
Gotham Forest
The trees twisted unnaturally, their shadows stretching into grotesque shapes. The air felt heavy, suffocating, as if reality itself was bent around one small figure.
A young girl sat alone on a rusted swing, the chains creaking as she moved slowly back and forth. Her dark eyes stared at the ground, her face pale and unreadable. Yet her voice, soft and trembling, betrayed her pain.
"That's right, Ace," she whispered to herself. "You don't need anyone. Nobody cares about you. Just accept it. You'll always be alone."
Her swing stilled. She tilted her head back, staring at the night sky, where the stars peeked through scattered clouds. Her lips trembled as a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"Why didn't someone come to save me? I just wish... I wasn't so alone anymore." she whispered, the words barely audible.
The tear drop fell, striking the dirt below. At that instant, the ground beneath her lit up with an otherworldly glow. A summoning circle spread outward in intricate patterns, the energy thrumming against her skin.
Ace gasped and leapt back from the swing, her small fists clenched, wary of this sudden intrusion. Then, a sharp sting ran across her hand. She looked down and saw three glowing red marks forming on her skin: command seals.
Images and knowledge flooded her mind—knowledge Edward had implanted into the Grail system so that even non-magi could comprehend what was happening. Ace's lips parted in shock as she pieced it together.
"A… Holy Grail?" she whispered. Her tiny voice carried a tremor of wonder. "Something that can… fulfill my wish?"
The circle's glow intensified, enveloping her in its light.
Tokyo, Japan
The abandoned house was silent except for the sound of the wind rattling its broken windows. Dust coated the wooden floor, and the air smelled faintly of mold and old paper.
A lone woman stood in the center of the room, her white half-mask catching the moonlight that poured through the shattered ceiling. Her expression was cold, her posture unyielding.
But when she spoke, her voice softened, carrying a hint of sorrow.
"I will save you. Just you wait."
Her fingers trembled slightly as she bent to the floor, tracing a magical circle with practiced precision. When it was complete, she pricked her finger, letting a single drop of blood fall onto the sigil.
The lines flared with light, and she stared at them without hesitation.
"Let's see if this time," she whispered, almost like a prayer, "there's truly a chance for a miracle."
The circle responded, glowing brighter as the summoning began.
LexCorp, Metropolis
High above Metropolis, in the polished steel and glass of LexCorp Tower, Lex Luthor stood inside his private lab. The lights were dimmed, the city skyline gleaming behind him.
At his feet, a complex circle glowed, etched with precision and enhanced with scientific instruments to stabilize its magic.
In his hand, he held a relic: the fossilized skin shed from a serpent. Not just any serpent—records claimed it belonged to one of the first, preserved through ages.
Lex placed it carefully at the circle's center, his lips curling into a smile.
He clasped his hands behind his back and spoke with the confidence of a man who had already won. "Soon, I shall fulfill my dreams and change this twisted world. A world where aliens fly over us like gods, lording over humanity. No more. I will surpass them, and establish a new world order."
The circle flared brilliantly, bathing his smug face in crimson light.
Gotham – The Batcave
Deep beneath the Wayne estate, the Batcave thrummed with a quiet intensity. Machinery hummed. Bats stirred in the rafters. At the cave's center, Bruce Wayne stood before his own summoning circle.
Unlike the others, his ritual wasn't crude or improvised. The circle carved into the stone floor was perfect, cut with laser precision, its runes meticulously copied from grimoires Zatanna had once mentioned in passing. It was order, discipline, and control—everything Batman demanded.
At its center rested a shard of ancient steel, blackened with age and battle scars. Rumor said it came from a sword wielded by a forgotten king. Bruce had risked everything to obtain it, cutting through shadows both political and mystical to claim it.
His jaw tightened. His gloved hand brushed over the relic.
"Let's see what fate has in store for me this time," he muttered under his breath.
The circle glowed, answering his challenge.
London, An Abandoned Church
The ruins stank of smoke and mildew. The roof was half-collapsed, and rain had left the wooden floorboards swollen and rotten. In the center of it all crouched John Constantine, cigarette clamped between his teeth, his trench coat stained with whiskey and ash.
The summoning circle beneath him was crude—sloppily drawn in chalk and smeared with blood. It looked more like a joke than a ritual.
But the lines pulsed with power, responding to his hand.
Constantine squinted at it, taking a drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke that mixed with the rising magical fumes.
The circle flared scarlet, casting shadows across the ruined pews. The air grew heavy, reeking of iron and sulfur. The cigarette burned down to his fingers.
He cursed, flicked it aside, and grinned through the sting.
"Well then," he muttered, his voice dry and sardonic. "Hope you're uglier than me, mate. I don't like competition."
The glow intensified, promising the arrival of something dangerous.
Avalon, The Floating Fortress
Cassie finally managed to draw the summoning circle. She looked at Edward proudly, "Look Daddy! I did it! I finally drew the stupid circle."
Edward sighed. " After 5 hours and 30 tries. Seriously Cassie, did you inherit your mom and my strength only, and not the braincells? I thought pranking you to draw it might be fun, but this was just....sad."
Cassie pouted. " Hmmmm... Wait! Did you say you pranked me! I didn't have to draw this?"
Edward chuckled. " Of course not. The drawing is just to stabilize the magic. Your will to summon is the main conduit. There could be people who can't draw chosen by the Grail, I wouldn't want them to have a hard time."
Cassie roared and launched herself like cannon ball. " Argh! Stupid dad! I hate you! I won't talk to you again!"
Edward laughed heartily. " Hahahaha, that was worth it after spending 5 hours to teach you. Now before I ground you, you know what to say young lady."
Cassie grumbled but still spoke. " Yes. My father is best dad in the world. I am the luckiest girl ever!"
Edward chuckled and patted her head , to which she tried to bite his finger. He glared at her. " Are you a dog? What kind of 50 year old tries to bite their dad?"
Cassie dodged his fist of love and retorted, " I am stupid because you hit my head too many times! I saw it on discovery Channel. "
Edward sighed. " You can't lose what you don't have Cassie. Anyway, let's see who you summon. You sure you don't want a relic?"
Cassi nodded. " Yes. I want to se which heroic spirit I am!"
Edward shook his head. " This isn't an app dear. You summon them. "
Cassie ignored him. " Yeah yeah, same thing. Now come forth my destined hero, and assist me in battle, as I murder-death-kill!"
The summoning circle lit up, and Edward stood there stunned, unable to speak at the sheer stupidity.
*****
Guess who is about to summon which Servant ?
This arc will be a sad one, so prepare your tissues.